


Swept Off

by FireEye



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Accidental Marriage, F/M, Gen, One-Sided Relationship, trope bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 12:13:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireEye/pseuds/FireEye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aliens did it.  Maybe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swept Off

The bed was soft, or maybe it was the bedding – luxurious and decadent, a puffy cloud of downfeathers.  Shepard clambered out of the fluff, studying the four-post bed and its silky translucent canopy with suspicion.  Hitting the plush carpet on bare feet, she studied the lush bedroom, agape.

In addition to the generous bed and carpeting, the molded walls were decadently splashed with textured flecks of mica, glittering in the light of a real, roaring fire in a grandiose fireplace.

The comforter started to follow her off the bed, stuck to her hand.  Shepard detangled herself, and stared at her fingers in shock.  A wedding band glinted in the hearth light, guarded by a subtle, twined engagement ring.  Not unlike...

“ _Ugh_ ,” Shepard groaned, curling the fingers of that hand into a fist, she rubbed her head with the other.

A civilian dress, elegant in its simplicity, was draped over the back of an overplushed loveseat, and she grabbed it for lack of her uniform, which was nowhere in sight.

“Kaidan?”  No.  Not his style.  _Was it_?  _No_ , she pulled the dress over her head, _if it was_... she pushed the thought aside.  Who else?  Suspicion bubbled up, and she grit her teeth.

She pushed the heavy wooden door open, following an off-key humming to the spacious, equally lavish living room.  The man danced across the floor, spinning about with an invisible partner.

“Conrad,” shocked, she struggled to put the name to the face, jabbing a finger in his direction.  “Verner.” 

“Of course!”  Conrad stopped, dropping his arms and smiled brightly.  “Who’d you think it was.”

Shepard likewise dropped her hand, shaking her head ever slightly.  “Conrad, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean, darling?”

“Don’t call me that,” Shepard squeaked.  Raising her hand, she at the wedding band in terror.  Covering it with her fingers, she attempting to pull it off, only to find it stuck.

“Whatever you wish, desire of my heart.”

“Aren’t you married?” Unable to remove the engagement ring, much less the wedding band, Shepard clasped her hands behind her back, swaying on the balls of her feet.  “To someone else I mean?”

“Well, yeah, but when the Great... um...” he stumbled, then recovered swiftly, “When the love of your life asks you to be her husband, you don’t say no to that.”

“What are you talking about?”

Conrad blinked, perplexed.  Awareness lit up his eyes, and he leaned in, speaking softly.  “Oh, I see, this is a test, isn’t it?”

“Yes, most certainly a test,” Shepard said, voice flat.

“Um.  Okay, I can do this.”  Pressing his hands together, Conrad leaned back and cleared his throat.

“We’ve been seeing each other on and off since the geth attacked Eden Prime.  It can be a bit rocky at times, but the passion and stuff makes up for all the hard times.  We got hitched last night.  Now, I thought it was all very sudden,” he smiled, wagging his eyebrows as he strutted backwards through the arch in the far wall, “but you were very _persuasive_.”

Shuddering, Shepard took a moment to compose herself before following him into the small kitchenette.  “Conrad, where’s my gun?”

“I don’t know what gun you’re talking about.”  He was standing at the counter, doing... _something_ at waist level.  When he turned around, Conrad jabbed something long and firm in her direction, and she leapt back three feet into the wall.  “Banana?”

“No.”  Shepard managed to force a smile, raising her palms outward to ward him off.  “Thank you, uh, Conrad, but no.”

“Okay.”  Shrugging, he peeled the plantain.  “Suit yourself, they’re _good_.”

“Conrad, whatever the _hell_ is going on, I don’t want to know,” Shepard snapped.  “I am not married to you, and if I am,” Conrad choked, waving her quiet, “I’m not _staying_ married to you, so tell me-...”

“Shh.” Remnants of his banana still in hand, he gestured, palms towards the ground.  “They’ll hear you.”

“Oh.”  Shepard blinked, glancing sidelong at the walls.  “‘Kay.”

Backing out of the kitchenette, Shepard wheeled about, casting about for an escape route.  She had to get out of here.


End file.
